As the president of the Congress—John Hancock—pounded on the table to gather everyone’s attention, George sat up straighter.
“Gentlemen, we have received news that is disturbing, but not all that surprising considering everything that has transpired in recent years.” He stepped around the table and continued. “A new Act has come down from England. It goes into effect as of July the first. The Colonies will only be allowed to trade with England. It is a new law, which means there will be punishment for not abiding by it.”
Many of the men shook their heads, and whispers filled the room.
“Gentlemen.” He held up his hands. “There is more. As of July the twentieth, the Colonies will no longer be able to catch fish in the North Atlantic.”
That prompted a lot of gasps, and voices raised in agitation.
“They cannot do that! Do they believe they own the ocean?” One of the delegates stood from his desk.
“Apparently they do. King George believes he owns it all from how it appears. And the Act is in place. So, gentlemen, how do we wish to respond?”
A cacophony of sound rose throughout the room.
Discussions were had.
Options laid out.
But George knew that their path was to fight for their freedom.
It was indeed their only path.
That…or be enslaved by the King.
Sunday, June 4, 1775
Hingham
Matthew paced inside the odious barn. It wasn’t his favorite place to meet, but any time he could have with Faith was worth it. He couldn’t wait to see her face again—it was what kept him going each day.
The longer he was with the Loyalists, the harder it became to bite his tongue. There seemed to be so much arrogance among the men he had the so-called pleasure of knowing. They all wanted power and for the Crown to rule it all. It didn’t make sense to him. Not one bit. Didn’t those men long to make decisions for themselves? To build something with their own hands? Or were they so concerned with their titles and positions that they didn’t care?
Breathing out a huff, he realized he couldn’t lump them all into the same group. Not every Loyalist was a bad person. Or arrogant. Or lazy. He cringed at his own thoughts. Yes, he’d begun to lump them all together and formed opinions about them because of their political leanings. That wasn’t the way things should be. That wasn’t how the good Lord showed them in the Good Book either. But it was so easy to judge and become prejudiced. Especially in the middle of a war.
Hate could do horrible things to one’s mind. And Matthew was determined not to let it go there. He had a job to do, and he would see it through. Thoughts of a bright future with Faith indeed spurred him on and kept him on track. Even when exhaustion and frustration overwhelmed him.
Faith.
She was beautiful. And feisty. And full of life. She also had a good mind and strong opinions. It didn’t bother him one bit that she could think for herself, manage her estate by herself, and everything else she did so remarkably by herself.
The barn door creaked, and his heart picked up its pace. He watched from the corner to make sure it was her, and when he saw her sweet face, he came out of the shadows to greet her. “Faith. It is so good to see you again.”
A huge smile split her face. “It is good to see you as well.” She looked up at him as she stepped closer. “I have been looking forward to this all day.”
His heart felt like it skipped a beat with a declaration like that. “You are my one bright spot, Faith.”
She didn’t look away or down. Not at all skittish or coy like so many other women he’d seen. Maintaining eye contact, she licked her lips. “I believe God has given us something special. Do you agree?”
“Yes.” He took her hand and led her to where he had lit a lantern. In a relatively clean stall, he’d placed two milking stools he’d found, and they sat together in the dim light. He reached into his waistcoat. “This is for you.” He handed over the letter.
“Aye. Thank you. I have several for you as well.” She reached into her skirt to pull out a packet she’d tied with a ribbon. “Tell me about all that has been happening. Are you doing all right? Is it difficult?”
Her curiosity made him chuckle. “I love your quick mind. The happenings are not all that interesting. Frustrating is more the word I would use. Mainly because it is difficult to watch what they are planning and deciding with no regard for the common people. I have to keep my mouth shut and play my part. Which is not always easy.”
She made a scrunched-up face. “I would have great difficulty keeping my mouth shut, I assure you.”
Oh, how she brought joy to his heart. Before he could think about it and stop himself, he plunged on ahead. “Faith, I know this is not the appropriate time nor the place, and I do not want to put you at any more risk than you already are, but—” He took a deep breath and paused. The green of her eyes enchanted him. And he wished he could stay right here…forever.
“But …?”
All right, maybe not forever, but it was wonderful simply to bask in her presence. “I am hoping that you will wait for me. After all this is over. The war. All of it.”
She sat up a little straighter and lifted her eyebrows. “I believe that you need to be a bit more specific, Mr. Weber.”
He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “Men. You all can be so daft sometimes.” Small as she was, sitting on the tiny stool, she put her hands on her hips. It was adorable. “If you are asking me to wait for you, kind sir, I believe that means you should at least admit that you care for me in some way.” She lifted one of those pretty little eyebrows and smirked.
“Oh, Faith.” He reached for both of her hands. “You must know that I care a great deal about you. I cannot get through the day without thinking of you a hundred times. And I would not wish to. I thank the Lord above for giving me the opportunity to know you. You have brought joy into my life that I have never experienced before.”
“Truly?” Her voice was soft.
“Truly.”
She sighed. “I care for you a great deal as well.” Light laughter lifted her lips. “I do not think I told you, but your sister told me several stories. They were quite endearing.”
Lifting his eyes toward the ceiling, he wondered what endearing stories Amelia could have told. “I can well imagine.”
A gust of wind rattled the sides of the barn and whipped up the smell. Faith put a finger under her nose. “You never told me how well you were acquainted with Benjamin Franklin.” Her voice sounded pinched with her hand there. Probably trying not to inhale while she spoke.
“Ben? He’s a great fellow. I know Amelia told you that I had sent Ben to her with the message for you. It was the only way we could think of to keep my cover.”
“What is he like?”
“Who? Ben?”
Faith nodded.
“He is a very amiable man. Short and stout. Brilliant and a wonderful mentor to me. It’s just such a shame that he and his son are at odds.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know?”
As she shook her head, her blond curls bounced.
“His son is William Franklin, the Royal Governor of New Jersey.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you saying that they are on opposite sides?”
“Quite irrevocably. And it has put a great strain on their relationship. So much so that I fear it may never recover.”
“That is so sad. Family should always come first, do not you agree? I mean, even if they disagree politically, should not they always put the other first and seek to maintain peace within the family?”
“That, my dear, is much easier said than done.”
She put a hand to her chest. “It is heartbreaking is what it is.”
“I agree. But Ben refuses to contact William, and William is too caught up in everything around him to realize that he may very well lose his father over this.”
Watching the pain wash over her face, Matthew reached out a hand to cover hers. “Let us talk about happier things, shall we? While we have a few moments.”
“Agreed.”
“As much as I want to tell you how I worry about you, I can see you are doing very well.” He lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed the top of her lacy glove. “You look absolutely beautiful this evening.”
She didn’t break eye contact and leaned an inch closer to him. The deep green of her dress made her eyes even greener in the lantern light. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Weber. You are quite handsome yourself.”
In that instant, he could imagine the stinky barn was gone and they were out in the fresh air under the stars together. She made everything brighter. What was this feeling? Was this what true love felt like? Many men had talked to him about it over the years. Some in boasting, some in earnest awe of the emotion. But he’d never felt it. Never.
A horse whinnied behind him, and Faith laughed.
As much as he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss those lips until the war was over, he prayed for control. He wanted to do the honorable thing by her. Oh, but how he wanted to kiss her. He gripped her hands again. So this is why most men married young. The yearnings and feelings that had taken over the past few months with Faith were quite intense. But he was a soldier. And now a spy. He could conquer this and keep control.
The horse whinnied again.
It was his turn to laugh. “Not very romantic, is it?”
“You are all the romance I need, Matthew Weber.” With that she stood and leaned over him. Placing a kiss on his cheek, she smelled of roses and lilacs. “I will see you in two days.”
He longed to pull her back into his arms, but she dashed out the door.
Good thing too. He’d have to do a lot more praying.
Too many sounds in the night had kept Faith from sleeping well. That and her thoughts of Matthew.
She’d been so young and naive when she’d married Joseph. He’d been a very handsome and strong man, and their attraction had been strong. Their affection for one another had been sweet and tender. But the marriage lasted only a week. Really a day, if you counted the fact that he went off to battle the very next day after the wedding. But she had adored him. As much as her twenty-year-old self could.
Now time and experiences had shaped her. Matured her. Gained her much wisdom. And while she held Matthew in great esteem for his bravery and his hard work, she had to admit that she was very drawn to him physically as well. It did strange things to her heart.
He was so tall. Trim but very strong. His cutaway coats accentuated his broad shoulders. But it was his eyes that drew her in every time. As much as she wanted to be held in his strong arms, she longed to look into his eyes even more. The man was a commanding presence—much like George was—but she never felt any fear around him. Only great respect and a strong sensation of being…safe.
Then there was her attraction to him. She longed for his touch. Longed to be kissed by him. Loved by him. She shook her head. Lord, keep my thoughts pure.
She was incredibly thankful for the opportunity to get to know this dashing man.
So many gentlemen nowadays were all absorbed in themselves or their work. They loved mirrors and to look at their reflection. They wanted women to swoon and fall at their feet and to think that they were the greatest gift from God above. They gave more attention to their hair, clothes, and shoes, than they did to their character and reputation.
Joseph hadn’t been that way. George wasn’t that way—his care for Martha was a wonderful thing to behold. And from what she could tell, Matthew didn’t appear to be that way either.
The thought of having a future with him thrilled her and sent tingles down her spine. How long would the war last? She truly hoped that King George would see the error of his ways sooner rather than later, because Faith desperately wanted children. Lots of them.
Making her way down to the parlor, Faith pulled her dressing gown closer to her. There was quite a chill before the sun rose. Even though it was summer, she almost wanted to ask for a fire to be lit, but she would settle for a blanket and her comfy chair to watch the sun rise since there was no chance of sleep.
It must be getting close to four in the morning. Last time she’d looked at the clock it was past three. The kitchen staff would begin their work for the day soon, and she could ask for a cup of tea to warm her bones. She turned her chair to face the window. The quiet was one thing she loved most. In Boston there was very little of it.
Wrapping herself in a blanket, she sat in her chair with her feet tucked up under her. Not a position she could manage in her stays and full dress. But she’d done it since she was a child and would climb up onto the settee with her mother and they would make up stories while she embroidered pillows. As an adult, her short stature made it a comfortable and cozy way to curl up in her chair, and she would enjoy the time she could relax even if she couldn’t sleep.
Faith leaned her head back and thought of Matthew. How she wished the time would fly until their next meeting. Thoughts of him gathered in her mind more often each day. She could see his face, his dashing figure, those twinkling eyes, and could almost smell his scent. His very intoxicating and manly scent.
Gracious, time to pull herself together. Giving a little huff, she promised herself to keep her mind in check.
In the silence of a sleeping house, that was more difficult than she’d hoped. But she could do it. So she turned her thoughts to their subsequent conversation. What would she say to him next—
The floor creaked behind her and brought her lovely thoughts crashing to a halt. Someone was coming into the parlor.
Afraid to move or even breathe, Faith looked to the tools by the fireplace. Was she within reach of the poker? It was the only defensive weapon she could think of within easy reach.
A slight shuffling sounded, and she wished she could disappear under the blanket. With the back of her chair to the entrance of the room, she couldn’t see anything. Did anyone know she was there? Maybe she could stay hidden.
Unless the intruder was after her.
Whoever it was moved to her right and headed toward the fireplace. She could almost feel them next to her. There was nowhere for her to hide. Sending a quick prayer heavenward, she hoped she would be able to move quickly if she needed to, but the numb feeling in her feet and legs warned that they had fallen asleep underneath her.
A shadow emerged.
As soon as she recognized the figure, relief flooded her whole being. “Clayton! What on earth are you doing?”
He moved very slowly and held up a packet. Ah…it all made sense now. In his hand were letters. Like the ones she always found in her sewing basket. “I am very sorry to startle you, ma’am.”
She put a hand to her chest and eased her feet to the floor. One of the rules was not to ask questions about how the deliveries were made. The less she knew about some of the details, the better. Another wave of relief washed over her. “You are working for the cause, aren’t you?”
“Indeed, ma’am.” He stood up straight. “I did not wish you to think that I took time away from the house, so I kept my mouth shut and snuck out in the middle of the night to ensure these were delivered safely.”
Did the man never sleep? To think, she’d known him all these years, yet she knew so little about him. “Is it dangerous work?”
“Not much of it, ma’am. Not any more dangerous than what you do.” His expression was very fatherly and protective.
She gave him a sheepish smile. “Clayton, you amaze me. Thank you for all that you are doing.”
“Indeed. ‘Tis my duty. But I appreciate your support.” Instead of placing the packet in her basket, he handed it to her. “Is there anything else you need, ma’am?”
“Why don’t you join me for a cup of tea, and we could discuss all that has transpired so far. I am sure you have quite a few stories to tell, and I would love to hear them
.” Light laughter bubbled up. “Besides, I need to sit for a while and wait for my heart to calm down. You gave me quite a scare. I thought you were an intruder.”
“An intruder? But the doors and windows are barred, ma’am.” He tilted his head.
She leaned forward. “Yes, an intruder. Someone who found out who I was and came after me to stop the messages from getting delivered.” In all seriousness, her mind had gone there. But saying it in front of Clayton made her feel ridiculous. No one knew who she was. “I know…you think it is silly of me.”
“No, ma’am. Not at all. ‘Tis good that you are taking the danger seriously.” He smiled at her. Actually smiled. “And yes, ma’am. I will gladly join you for tea.”
“I cannot wait. My butler—the man I thought led such a boring life since all he does is take care of little old me all the time—has secrets. This I simply must hear.”
After sharing stories with Clayton for almost two hours, they both went about their days and promised to keep the other’s secrets. Faith shook her head. It still amazed her. Clayton. Stiff, stoic Clayton. To think of him slinking about in the night, jumping fences, and darting between buildings. It made her chuckle.
The ladies would soon be gathering, and she needed to prepare herself for what was to come. Most of them would be leaving the city with their children within the next few days. The dangers were just getting too high. Most of the other women and children had already left town, but her ladies had been invested in the cause and wanted to see it through and do as much as they possibly could. It was hard to think about this being their last chance to see each other for an unforeseen amount of time. Goodbyes were one of her least favorite things.
Marie came in with her gown for the day. “Are you ready, ma’am?”
“Quite.”
As Marie quietly went about their normal morning routine, Faith realized that if things continued to escalate and she was forced to leave Boston as well, she would need to make provisions for her staff. It might do well for her to see if there were people—especially other women and children—who might need assistance. Maybe that was something she and Clayton could look into together. Now that she knew about his extra activities, it would be fun to have a coconspirator.
The Patriot Bride Page 13